


The Misadventures of Two Gay Dads

by shortinsomniacs (Liv_Golightly)



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, all of the feels, domestic gays being domestic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 20:07:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13220265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liv_Golightly/pseuds/shortinsomniacs
Summary: "Whizzer isn’t asleep. He should be curled up next to you, sleeping soundly in your bed. Instead, his feet are practically in your face.Your husband’s body is sprawled out, and he’s propped up on his elbows, gazing lovingly into the bassinette situated at the end of your bed."





	1. Late Nights and Early Mornings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SingARoundelay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingARoundelay/gifts).



> This work is partially inspired by The New Normal, partially by Moe (@SingARoundelay), and partially by this photo of premature baby me asleep on my 15-year-old brother, who was subsequently asleep on my dad. 
> 
> This work is gift to the utterly fantastic Moe. Girl, you're a gem!
> 
> I do not own Falsettos. All rights go to its creators.

Whizzer isn’t asleep. He should be curled up next to you, sleeping soundly in your bed. Instead, his feet are practically in your face.

 

Your husband’s body is sprawled out, and he’s propped up on his elbows, gazing lovingly into the bassinette situated at the end of your bed.

 

Well, you can’t blame him for that.

 

Liora Micah Levitt, with her mess of curls, is fast asleep, tiny fist curled around Whizzer’s entire little finger. Literally and figuratively.

 

Your baby girl is nearly four months old, but has only been home with you for a mere two days. A premature birth and a far-too-long stay in the hospital has left everyone slightly on edge for the past few months. If you’re being honest, you’re still on edge. Jewish neuroticism at its finest. You’re lucky—Liora seems to be perfectly fine, though teeny tiny, and has gained enough weight so she could finally come home. The oxygen cannula, which was ever-present at first, is now only needed at night.

 

You’d been surprised that Whizzer had requested his birth name, Micah, be used as her middle name. He doesn’t seem to like it much, and always grumbles if you use it, but he’d simply said, “Liora Micah,” when asked for a name, and you’d agreed.

 

“Whizzer,” you murmur, sitting up in bed, “try to sleep, sweetheart. You know she’ll be screaming her head off in a few hours.”

 

“She’s just so…small,” Whizzer replies, not looking up. “I can’t believe she could finally come home. She—she made it, Marv.”

 

“Of course she did,” you hum, shifting and flopping down next to him. “She’s got you for a daddy, and you’re the strongest person I know!”

 

Whizzer kisses your cheek. “I love you. But she can’t call both of us ‘daddy;’ it’ll get confusing. You already hold the dad title. She’ll call me something else.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Papa. I mean, my dad was from Colombia, and that’s what I called him. Well, with an accent on the a, of course.” His eyes light up. “Oh my God, I can teach her Spanish!”

 

“You can speak Spanish?”

 

“I might look like a white boy, Marvin, but I promise I’m not.”

 

You chuckle. “I’ve been married to you for three years, and I can’t believe I didn’t know this!”

 

“You learn something new every day, sweetie!”

 

“More like I learn a new reason to love you every day.”

 

“You’re making me blush, you big softie.”

 

“Yeah, well, your hand groping my ass is making me hard, you horny little shit.”

 

Whizzer laughs. “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m married to the most beautiful man in the entire world!”

 

You pull him in for a long kiss. “Come on, sweetheart, we really should get some sleep.”

 

“Sleep or _sleep?”_

“We’re not scarring our infant daughter, Whizzer Brown!”

 

“Um, excuse me, it’s Whizzer Brown Levitt, thank you very much!”

 

***

 

When you wake up in the morning, your first thought is that you’ve slept in far too long. The clock on your bedside table reads 9:18, and you scramble out of bed like a maniac, wondering where the _fuck_ Whizzer and Jason and Lio are, and fuck _, you’re a terrible father, how did you not wake up_ , and Whizzer’s been completely exhausted lately and it’s not fair that he’s been on Lio duty for the past God knows how many hours because your baby girl absolutely doesn’t sleep through the night—

 

You hear a soft snore behind you, and you spin around so quickly, you nearly fall over.

 

Whizzer is sound asleep on his side of the bed, hair rumpled and mouth slack. His arms are wrapped protectively around Jason, who is resting with his head against Whizzer’s chest, snoring quietly. And in Jason’s arms, held so gently, wrapped in a fluffy lavender blanket, is Lio.

 

You’re 500% sure your heart is melting. Jesus, when did you get so soft?

 

You grab your phone off of the beside table and snap a picture. After immediately setting it as your background, you send it to the Tight-Knit Family group chat. Then, moving as quietly as you can, you dig through Whizzer’s nightstand and pull out his polaroid. Taking care to adjust the angle and light settings—even though you know Whizzer is much better at it than you are, and that’s an understatement—you focus into the tiny eyehole and press down on the capture button. The print pops out of the camera’s top.

                                                                                                

You shake it gently and watch as three figures come into view. One tall and handsome, even when sleeping; one with messy curls and a sleepy smile; and one beautiful bundle asleep on her brother’s chest, without a care in the world.

 

You leave the developed photo on Whizzer’s nightstand.

 

***

 

Your boys—and girl—wake maybe half an hour later, while you’re soaking challah in cinnamon and egg for French toast.

 

“I smell cinnamon,” Jason says excitedly. “Do you think dad’s making French toast?”

 

Whizzer chuckles. “It’s the only thing he knows how to make, so I’d say so.”

 

And then, Whizzer appears, snaking an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

 

“Good morning, love of my life,” you respond, kissing him back. Liora, nestled in Whizzer’s arms, grumbles softly. You laugh. “Good morning to you, too, sweet pea.”

 

“What, no kiss for me?” Jason jokes, leaning against the kitchen doorway.

 

You put the spatula down and cross over to him, picking him up and kissing his entire face.

 

“Daaaad!” he laughs, squirming in your grip, “Put me doooown!”

 

“You asked for it, kiddo,” you laugh, setting him back down on the ground.

 

“Ugh. I’m too old for this.”

 

“Nah,” Whizzer chimes in. “Believe me, I was kissing a lot of boys when I was your age.” He pauses. “Blowing them, too.”

 

“ _WHIZZER!_ ” you and Jason shout.

 

Whizzer dissolves into laughter. “What? I like sex. But Jason, honey, please, God, use protection. Two HIV-positive family members are enough. And gonorrhoea is some nasty shit. Actually, you know what? Don’t have sex, Jason. You’ll get pregnant and die.”

 

“Last time I checked, I couldn’t get pregnant,” Jason quips.

 

“Yeah, well, who knows what the Puberty Fairy has in store for you, kid!”

 

“ _Oh my God_.”

 

Whizzer just laughs, and then turns his attention to the stove. “Ooh, Marvin, baby, you’re gonna burn that. Here, give me the spatula, and you take Lio.”

 

You chuckle. “You won’t hear me arguing.”

 

“Marvin Jonah Levitt, the love of my life, not arguing? Jesus, it’s a Christmas miracle!”

 

You roll your eyes. “Give me my baby.”

 

“ _Our_ baby, asshole.”

 

“Yes, yes, without your sperm, she wouldn’t be possible. But have you seen her grumpy face? That’s all me.”

 

Whizzer hands off Liora to you, and she immediately burrows into the crook of your neck. You kiss the top of her head. God, you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

 

Marvin Jonah Levitt, domestic as fuck. Who would’ve thought?

 

Turns out that miracles do happen.


	2. Words, Words, Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh my fucking God, Marvin, and Cordelia thought I was gonna be the one to teach the baby her first swear! Mark it on the calendar—August 12th, Liora’s first swear word!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've based Lio off of my 18-month-old cousin, Colette. I did some research on toddler speech, but if anything is off, let me know.
> 
> I do not own Falsettos. All rights go to its creators.

“Papa Papa Papa Papa,” Lio repeats, tugging on your sleeve.

 

“Yes, sweetheart?” you reply.

 

“Quieroooo,” she says.

 

“¿Qué quieres, Liora?”

 

“Quiero up! Up up up!”

 

“How do you ask? ¿Cómo preguntes?”

 

She sighs and chirps, “Por favor?”

 

You chuckle and hoist her onto your hip. “There we go. Is there anything else you need, Lio?”

 

“Kiss? Beso?”

 

You press a kiss to her cheek. “Can Papa get a kiss?”

 

Sloppily, your eighteen-month-old presses a kiss to your own cheek, and then burrows into the crook of your neck. “Love Papa.”

 

“I love you, too, baby.”

 

“Love Dada.”

 

“And he loves you very, very much!”

 

“Dada home?”

 

“Daddy will be home in a couple hours, Lio. He’ll be home just in time for dinner!”

 

“Dada Jaze home?”

 

“No, Jason’s coming on Friday. That’s in two days. Tomorrow, Papa’s going to work and Daddy will be home all day. On Friday, you’ll go to Auntie Delia’s while Daddy and Papa go to work, and then Jason will come to see us!”

 

“Jaze Jaze Jaze Jaze!”

 

“He’ll be excited to see you, too, sweetheart! You can show him your new Legos.”

 

She squirms in your arms and lifts up her leg. “Leg.”

 

You laugh. “Yes, that’s your leg, but I meant Legos, Liora. The things we build with?”

 

“Ohhhhh.”

 

“Do you want to finish the castle you and Daddy started yesterday?”

 

“Yes yes yes yes yes! Papa help?”

 

“Of course!”

 

Liora has a way of making you forget what you were supposed to be doing. She’s full of energy, and she’s cuddly and hilarious. By the time Marvin comes home, the two of you are painting at the kitchen table. Has your favorite shirt been ruined by a toddler’s paint-covered handprints? Yes. Two years ago, you would’ve had a conniption, but now, you don’t even care. It’ll come out in the wash. You’ve had too much fun mixing paint with Lio.

 

“Looks like Lio has decided to recreate the work of Jackson Pollock,” Marvin muses, setting his briefcase down and loosening his tie.

 

“Dadaaaa!” Liora squeals in delight.

 

“Hey, sweet pea,” Marvin grins, pressing a kiss to her curly hair. “Did you and Papa have fun today?”

 

“Uh-huh!” She points at her painting. “Look!”

 

“Oh, Lio, that’s beautiful! I like your use of fifty shades of blue. It’s just like the ocean, huh? Do you think I can hang that in my office?”

 

“Yes yes yes yes!”

 

Marvin laughs. “Well, how about we clean up your paints for tonight, and you can help me set the table for dinner!”

 

Oh, fuck, you’ve forgotten to start on dinner!

 

Marvin notices your deer-in-the-headlights expression and simply kisses your cheek. “It’s okay, Whiz. You wanna order Chinese?”

 

“Yeah,” you reply, grinning. “That’d be great, my love.” His calm reaction is a testament to how much Marvin has changed since you were first together—if you’d forgotten to make dinner then, he would’ve been furious, and the night would’ve ended in an earth-shattering fight. Now, though, he takes everything day by day, content to laugh and fumble along with you. He’s more open, more loving, and infinitely sweeter than you thought him capable of being. If he’s still neurotic, stubborn as a mule, sarcastic, and sometimes pedantic—well, you love him more than you can say. It’s not as if you aren’t petty, or caustically snarky, and nearly as stubborn as he is. But he loves you, too. You’ve got matching rings on your fingers to prove it.

                                                 

“ _WHIZZER!_ ” Marvin shouts.

 

You blink in surprise. “Oh! I—I’m sorry, Marv, what were you saying?”

 

Marvin has Lio secured in one arm and a Chinese takeout menu in the other. “Do you want beef with broccoli or beef with snow peas?”

 

“Broccoli…and are you gonna order dumplings?”

 

“Of course,” he chuckles. “What were you thinking so hard about, huh?”

 

“My absolutely wonderful husband.”

 

Marvin’s smile lights up his face. “You flatter me.”

 

“Nah, you’re just lovely. You deserve all the flattery and frottage I can give you.”

 

He nearly drops Liora. “ _WHIZZER_!”

 

You snort. “What? It’s not as if you don’t like it.”

 

“We have little ears surrounding us, sweetheart.”

 

“Little ears who know how much her daddy and papa love each other, and what’s wrong with that?”

 

“Yeah, well, she told Mendel that Papa was requesting Daddy ‘fuck him harder,’ the other night—not in those exact words, but enough so Mendel got the gist of it—so clearly she hears a lot more than we think.” His eyes go wide. “FUCK!”

 

“Fuck!” Lio cheers happily.

 

You laugh so hard, you fall over. “Oh my fucking God, Marvin, and Cordelia thought I was gonna be the one to teach the baby her first swear! Mark it on the calendar—August 12th, Liora’s first swear word!”

 

Marvin is trying to stay stern, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitch, until he bursts into merry laughter, because let’s face it, it’s funny!

 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck!” Lio babbles, clapping her hands.

 

“No, no, Lio, you shouldn’t say that,” Marvin scolds lightly, controlling his laughter. “It’s not a very nice word. Daddy and Papa shouldn’t say it, either.”

 

“No fuck?”

 

Marvin bites down a laugh. “No, love, no fuck.”

 

“Daddy’s right,” you say, picking yourself up off of the floor. “We shouldn’t say that…but do you want to learn how to say it in Spanish?”

 

“ _WHIZZER_!”

 

“I’m kidding, Marv,” you soothe, putting your hands up. “Lio, baby, give Daddy a kiss before he has a conniption.”

 

“No nip-sun, Dada,” Lio says very seriously. “Me kiss.” She kisses his nose. “All better!”

 

That soft, sappy smile reserved for Lio graces Marvin’s face. “Thank you, Liora. Let’s feed Moe, and then we can help Papa set the table.”

 

Your Bernese Mountain Dog perks up at the sound of her name and wags her tail.

 

“Moe soft,” Lio muses.

 

“Yes, she’s very soft. Can you get me her bowl?”

 

As you pull down plates and listen to Liora and Marvin chattering, you can’t help but smile. You wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.


End file.
